phoning home

"You're always looking over your shoulder."

Minoth shrugged. "Someone has to. You certainly don't."

"Well, but that's because you're always there behind me."

So satisfied was Addam with his neat turn of logic that he nearly missed the weighty, significant glance Minoth threw him in response.

Truly, no respite? Was Addam's routine so privileged, that he never once had to suspect disturbance from the rear?

And he, even in attempt to be grave rather than carefree, was far from the most perceptive among them. It just went to show.

"And if you were to walk in front?"

"I'd keep looking."

"And he's not concerned with Amalthus finding him?"

"No...why would he be?"

Lora couldn't help it - she rolled her eyes, just the slightest bit. Of all the answers she expected, that wasn't one.

"Because Amalthus is his Driver! And he's clearly a highly skilled Blade. If Amalthus is the kind of man who would treat a Blade like that, I'm pretty sure he's the kind of man who wants to keep tabs on his...property."

"That's very astute of you, Lora," mused Addam, eyes groundward. "You really think so?"

"Addam... I don't need your compliments. But maybe Minoth does."

Oh, but why are you here? What of your heraldry, your calling card?

Of course Minoth just brushed it off. So casual. So unflappable. So calm. So cool. Because I wanted to. Because I could. Because I heard a rumor. Because I was curious.

How do you say, I've been alone all my life; the friends I had, I didn't know it, and the friends I thought I had, weren't.

How do you say, please don't pin me with him, don't resolve me to that only, lonely other world.

How do you say, Architect, there is nowhere else but here?

Just a little further up the path, Minoth could see some Volff lurking. Those brilliant eyes and rippling hides. Those flashes of gnarled teeth.

Another return to danger. But then, no one was feeling very comfortable right now, were they?

"Some real uglies ahead. How's about we trade them this one?" he joked, to an audience of silent stares.

Minoth swallowed, then added somewhat compulsively, "Sorry. Keep forgetting you all seem to...actually want me around. Pretty rare thing."

Haze gazed at him with an emotion it seemed she couldn't place. Broke in Lora, "I think that's the default, actually."

"You're still thinking about that monk? That was over a week ago, Minoth."

Classic Addam. So good at living in the moment when he wanted to. Oh, worries for the future, sure, but he could be quite adept at leaving behind what couldn't be changed.

Indeed, it couldn't be changed that Minoth had stopped, sharpened, when he'd recognized the Indoline walking with a party in the White Chair. He couldn't take back what he'd said nor give back what he'd learned as a result. Apparently Baltrich had wondered after him the longest.

"What's-his-name, Adotolus? I'm really not sure he cared."

Maybe it was a sign of growth. Addam would probably agree - the fact that Minoth had let his guard down enough to even consider, or attempt, greeting someone he should have known from the slightest glance would jeopardize his long-fought stability; it was a good thing, wasn't it?

By another token, the fact that Minoth hadn't recognized him, not completely (immediately), showed how much Indol and its sights had faded from his mind.

"Besides," Addam had remarked, "he didn't seem all that good at following directions. Aren't most Indoline rather severe?"

Adotolus? A legal scholar. If he too were fallible...

"You're afraid they'll find you? But, Master Minoth, if all should be correct under the rule of law, and if you are accompanied by Lord Addam, then what is to fear?"

What, indeed? Aegaeon was a slow tick, but he wasn't a dumb bunny. These things just didn't occur to the masses, did they? Neither to the elites. Aegaeon had been wanted all his life, and all those that preceded it, too. Not just wanted, but desired. Prized.

Sure, Minoth was an object that could be squared via rationality. But Amalthus's logic was different.

Amalthus was his own goddamn country.

Ah, the simplicity of imperialism. Were Brighid and Aegaeon, Minoth wondered, somehow comforted by the presence of Vill Ethelmar?

(Lora had instructed him as to the special inquisitor's purpose in hushed tones. She thought it all very strange. Minoth thought it somehow less strange than the loose ingovernance of his own pattern.)

They couldn't be stolen, reappropriated. Or, well, they could, but there would be a great many people lined up to argue on their behalf if it did happen.

Not so, for Flesh Eater rogues.

Would they rebel, if reawakened in another land by rough, non-Ardainian hands?

Would he?